


Good Boy

by marvelidiot



Series: Sexy Times with Steve and Sam [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Sam, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6998815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelidiot/pseuds/marvelidiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Sam's first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Boy

“I don’t know what the protocol is here,” Steve admitted, glancing down at his shoes and then up at Sam. They stood facing one another on Sam’s front steps in the small halo of illumination from the porch light. A gentle drizzle had started on their walk home and now Steve’s hair was plastered to his head. Little rivulets of water dripped down Sam’s face and underneath the collar of his date blazer, the one that made his shoulders look wider and his waist thinner. He smiled up at Steve.

“On the one hand,” he drawled, tugging Steve forward by the hem of his jacket, “it’s a little presumptuous for you to assume you can just come into my house after our first date. On the other hand—”

“I live here, too,” Steve finished. His hands fell to Sam’s hips and Sam grinned like a teenager.

“What would you do if you didn’t live here?” he asked and was privately thrilled that his voice didn’t sound as breathless and giddy as he felt.

“Well,” Steve said with a smirk, “I haven’t been on a whole lot of dates in the twenty-first century.”

“Too busy saving the world?”

“Something like that.” Steve took another small step forward so they were now inches apart and Sam’s lips tingled with want. “But if I were dropping you off after our first date,” Steve continued, “I think I’d want to kiss you.” His breath skimmed over Sam’s cupid’s bow like a caress.

“Yeah?”

“Very softly. And I’d tell you I was happy that we went out tonight. And maybe I’d kiss you again because you looked so gorgeous. This time, not so softly.”

“Hm,” Sam said, not trusting himself to words just yet.

“I guess I’d want to leave you with a promise is what I’m saying.”

“And what would that be?” Sam asked, his voice gone hoarse.

Steve closed the small space between their lips and gently pulled Sam’s hips forward, so they were touching from lips to knees, and the sensuous, teasing pressure of his kiss immediately turned Sam’s brain to froth. His fingers curled around Steve’s jacket as he tilted his head and Steve slowly walked him backward until his back was flush with the door. _Good,_ Sam thought; he needed the support _._

Steve’s kisses were unbelievably soft, as if Sam were something fragile, something precious. It unfurled a bloom of heat in his stomach like never before; no one had ever assumed Sam was delicate. He sighed as Steve pulled away, his pink lips parted so beautifully Sam wanted to go back for more, to sip from this fountain forever.

“What promise?” he blurted out, not wanting to seem half as affected as he was.

“Hmm?” Steve asked. Even in the white, color-sapping glare of the porch light, Sam could see the little crescents of pink arcing across his cheekbones.

“You said you’d want to leave me with a promise,” Sam said.

Steve smiled. “I’d want you to know, Sam, that I am very, very good in bed.”

Sam gaped, completely blindsided by Steve’s words and unable to fashion a smart rebuttal of any sort.

“I think I still owe you a not-so-soft kiss,” Steve continued.

Sam bit his lip. “And after?”

“Well, in this scenario, I would leave and go to my own house and I’d probably have to take care of this—” He pushed his hips into Sam’s so Sam could feel his hard-on. “By myself.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Well, since you don’t have your own house, can I assume you’re going to take care of that here?”

“Oh most definitely,” Steve murmured, rocking slowly against Sam. “I don’t think I could help myself.”

“Ahhh,” Sam groaned. “Maybe I could help.”

Steve smiled and slid his hands around to cup Sam’s ass. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

 

They made it up to Sam’s bedroom in what had to be record time if anyone had ever cared to record that sort of thing. Steve sat down on the bed, pulled Sam on top of him, and claimed Sam’s lips in that not-so-soft kiss he had promised. The slide of his tongue against Sam’s was like a shot of expensive whiskey, smooth and hot, and Sam proceeded to use his position to his advantage, kissing Steve down onto the mattress. Steve was amenable, going down to his elbows and then fully onto his back. Sam took his time exploring the heat of Steve’s mouth, going as slow as his eager body would allow.

Steve, for his part, seemed to want only to touch Sam’s skin. He managed to pull Sam out of his blazer without breaking the kiss and now his fingers were pulling at the many buttons of Sam’s dress shirt. He sucked on Sam’s bottom lip, scraped his teeth along the sensitive skin, and then licked away the sting. He pushed his hard dick up against Sam and Sam obliged him with a slow grind. Steve groaned, losing the rhythm of the kiss and panting against the side of Sam’s neck. Sam shrugged out of his button down.

“Too many layers,” Steve complained. He tugged at Sam’s white undershirt, but got distracted touching Sam’s arms.

Sam sat up to undress and to take some much needed gulps of air. If his heavy breathing showed the muscles of his chest and abs to great effect, it was only incidental. Steve stroked up and down Sam’s arms, swept his thumbs along the smooth skin of his forearms, down to his wrists, and then intertwined their fingers.  

“Sam,” he breathed.

“If we’re going to do this,” Sam said, smiling, “I have lube in the bathroom.”

Steve nodded. “Do you—um, how do you…” He frowned, stumped for words, and Sam knew it wasn’t _all_ because of his impressive physique.

“I bottom, Steve,” he said matter-of-factly. “And I am very interested in you fucking me.”

Steve’s mouth fell open comically before he recovered enough to say, “Good, good, that works.”

“Yeah?” Sam asked, pushing back against Steve’s dick.

“Mmhmm,” Steve said, more high-pitched than usual. “It fits with the—general theme of my fantasies about you.”

“You’ve had fantasies about me?” Sam asked, grinding on Steve’s cock mercilessly now.

Steve nodded and the flush on his cheeks began to crawl across his face and down his neck. “Me fucking you in this bed. Me fucking you in _my_ bed. Me fucking you in the shower.”

“A general theme of you fucking me, then” Sam said before taking Steve’s lips in a kiss. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Steve cupped Sam’s jaw and took control of the kiss while his hips rolled under Sam in a way that confirmed everything Sam had ever hoped about Steve’s stroke game.

“I should—Steve—I should get the lube before we get too far along.”

“Mmhmm,” Steve said, sucking hickeys to the surface of Sam’s neck.

“I also don’t want to be wearing a scarf tomorrow. We can’t all pull off the Audrey Hepburn look.”

“I don’t know who that is,” Steve said, tracing the muscles of Sam’s back.

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam clambered off Steve’s lap, a maneuver made more difficult because Steve was very intent on kissing every inch of his neck, shoulders, and chest. He pulled off his jeans on his way to the bathroom, but couldn’t resist turning to look at Steve, who was as rumpled and flushed as one of those hedonistic Greek gods in all the Renaissance paintings. He was rubbing his dick through his jeans, his gaze seeming almost to consume Sam. Sam tore his own eyes away and went into the bathroom. He rummaged through the vanity drawer for the lube.

When he came back, Steve hadn’t moved at all. “You should keep that in your nightstand,” he said.

Sam rolled his eyes. “You should be naked.”

Steve seemed to agree as he pulled off his jacket, yanked his shirt over his head, and dropped his jeans around his ankles in about three seconds. Sam would have been impressed if he weren’t distracted by _other_ impressive things.

“Well, aren’t you gorgeous?” he said. He joined Steve on the bed.

“Sam,” Steve sighed, looking like he’d just watched Sam singlehandedly hang the constellations in the sky.

“I know,” Sam said. “God, believe me, I know.”

And then they didn’t speak for a while. They were much too busy learning the topography of one another. Steve was an intrepid explorer, moving up and down the length of Sam’s body enthusiastically and when he discovered the places that made Sam keen, he lingered. Sam had more of a cartographer’s eye for detail, mapping Steve’s chest, his thighs, his perfect cock in slow, thorough slides of his tongue and grazes of his fingernails. He couldn’t get enough of the wet slide of his hands over Steve’s dick, which was as impressive size-wise as the rest of him. Every time he thought he should move on--give those pretty pink nipples some attention, for instance—Steve made a gorgeous, little sighing noise that did a lot for Sam’s confidence in his hand job abilities. Sam thumbed the dripping head over and over, fascinated by the corresponding twitch of Steve’s abs.

“Shit,” Steve hissed, breaking the wordless reverie as his hips lifted from the bed and he came in a great sluice down his cock and Sam’s fingers. “Fuck.”

Sam laughed in surprise. “If you’d given me a warning, I would’ve stopped,” he pointed out.

He grabbed his t-shirt to wipe his hands, but Steve intercepted him and brought Sam’s cum-covered fingers to his mouth. He sucked on Sam’s thumb. “That’s why I didn’t warn you.”

Sam watched Steve clean his fingers in an aroused haze. “So I guess fucking me is gonna have to wait ‘til next time?” he asked, trying and failing to sound impassive about the wet dream vision Steve made right now.

Steve kissed his palm. “Don’t underestimate me, babe. Now, hand me the lube.”

Sam handed over the bottle, confused by Steve’s smugness. Sam didn’t mind. There was more than one way to get off, but Steve was acting like he hadn’t just blown the world’s biggest load all over Sam’s hands. While Sam was trying to work through his confusion, Steve rolled him onto his back and settled between his legs.

“Tell me what you like,” he said, sliding his lube-slick fingers across Sam’s asshole.

Sam twitched. “That’s a good start.”

Steve circled the tight bundle of muscle slowly, drawing little figure eights over and over while Sam tried to press down for more contact. When Steve finally pushed a finger in, Sam sighed in pleasure, but was quickly frustrated as Steve pistoned in and out of him at a pace just this side of maddening. When Sam tried to hurry things along and fuck himself, Steve grabbed his hip to hold him still.

“More,” Sam grunted and was rewarded with a second finger and a slightly faster pace.

“You look amazing,” Steve said, making Sam’s face flush. “I bet you’re gonna feel so good, so tight.”

“Yeahhh,” Sam groaned, too far gone to try any kind of dirty talk.

But it seemed to be enough for Steve, who, when Sam could bear to peek at him, looked enraptured with fingering Sam, like this in itself was the big show.

 “God,” he murmured, “how do you want me, Sam? Do you want it slow, baby? Do you want me to drag it out? I bet that’s how you like to be fucked. Nice and slow.”

“Steve,” Sam groaned.

“Can you take another one? Hmmm? Open up for me, Sam. That’s right. Just like that.”

Sam bit his lip against a whimper as Steve scissored him open. The pleasure was turning to heat on his skin, from his ears to his toes. His skin was starting to prickle with it, that almost uncomfortable itch of being a shade too hot. Even with Steve’s grip on him, Sam writhed, the breath stuttering out of his chest on gasps and panting breaths. And as Steve opened him up, he also opened up the sweetest ache Sam had ever felt. He felt overwhelmed with how good this was, how _right_ it was to be doing this with Steve—the man he had quietly loved for a year and a half before they’d finally pressed pause on the craziness of their lives to have this, their first date.

“Please, Steve, pleasepleaseplease,” he begged.

His eyes had fallen shut at some point, which he thought was probably for the best as he listened to the lube cap snap open. He didn’t think he could handle the sight of Steve lining his cock up with his asshole—never mind marvel at Steve’s dick already hard again.

Steve sank into him with a patience verging on saintly, letting Sam relax around him bit by bit. Sam wanted to tell Steve to lean forward, to put his weight on him, but the words melted in a hot fog of need as Steve pushed all the way to the hilt.

“Good?” Steve checked in.

Sam nodded. “God, yes. Good. Go. Fuck.”

Steve rocked into him, once, twice, and on the third go hit Sam right where it counted.

“Ohoh _ohhh_ —” Sam groaned before bringing his fist to his mouth to muffle the noise. Steve thrust in again, again, again. Sam desperately wanted to push up to meet him, but Steve was holding his hips with super soldier strength and all Sam could do was turn his head from side to side and try not to make too much of an idiot of himself. There was so much warmth and desire and electricity sparking through his body, he couldn’t stop moaning. It was like when you rode a roller coaster and the pressure and adrenaline got to be too much and you had to scream or your eyes would pop out of your head.

Steve felt so good inside him and he’d only just begun, his pace slow, his strokes drawn out so leisurely Sam half-wanted to beg him to get on with it. Sam buried his face in the crook of his elbow and clenched the pillow in his fist. Steve lifted Sam’s hips off the bed and the angle was so ridiculously perfect, Sam had to grab the base of his dick to keep from coming.

“Good?” Steve asked and Sam didn’t have to look at him to know what sort of smug grin he was wearing. Steve pulled all the way out of him and stroked his thumbs along Sam’s hipbones.

Sam’s impending orgasm retreated.

“It’s good, Steve,” he said, “it’s really, really good.”

Steve took Sam’s hand away from his cock and placed it above his head on the pillow. “Let me take care of you,” he said.

“Fuck me,” Sam said. “Fuck me, please.”

Steve obliged, nudging back inside him. The flush on his face and neck was so beautiful Sam wanted to touch him, to feel that hot skin. But now Steve was thrusting into him at a pace that made everything go blurry and inconsequential. Sam felt deliciously full, felt like his heartbeat was thrumming on the surface of his skin. Even his hands tingled with it; Sam was keenly aware of every whorl and swirl on his fingertips. God, this was good.

“You’re so tight,” Steve said, thrusting in harder, faster. Sam made a little strangled noise at the back of his throat. “You feel so good, baby. I wish—fuck—I wish you could see you. You look so good—taking my dick—you look so beautiful.”

“Mmmmmmm,” Sam managed, his back starting to arch off the bed.

“I wanna make you come, baby. What do you need? Tell me how you like it?”

“Hhhhhmmmm,” Sam moaned. “Keep—keep doing this. Don’t stop.”

“You like this?” Steve asked and it was so hot that he was really asking, really wanted to know if Sam liked the way his dick was hitting his prostate every single time, wasn’t just asking for personal affirmation.

“I love it,” Sam gasped. “Keep going. Fuck.”

Steve finally leaned forward and was now directly above Sam, his hands on either side of Sam’s head, his weight pinning Sam to the bed. He captured Sam’s mouth in a consuming kiss, his long, sure strokes never wavering. And Sam was so close. He could feel it tightening in the soles of his feet, in the points of his nipples, in his balls. “Steve,” he rasped. “Lemme—fuck, touch me. Touch my dick. I’m so—StevetouchmeI’msoclose.”

Steve’s eyes flicked up to Sam’s hands above his head where Steve had placed them and he smiled. “Good boy,” he murmured and no one had ever called Sam that before, but apparently it really worked for him because he came all in a rush, untouched in one, two, three spurts all over his stomach.

“Ahhh, ahh, ahhhhhhh.” He shuddered, aftershock spasms running through him for what felt like an entire age. He groaned as Steve pressed kisses to his jaw and ear, so sensitive that every brush of Steve’s lips was like an electric jolt. It took Sam a few minutes to catch his breath, but Steve didn’t seem to mind, peppered him with snowflake-soft kisses

Finally, Sam was collected enough to say, “Fuck.”

“So you like praise?” Steve asked, smirking.

Sam laughed. “I guess. Damn, Steve.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He pulled out of Sam and began to slowly jack himself off.

“Need some help with that?” Sam asked.

**Author's Note:**

> Still not over how much they belong together. Just wow, how is their relationship not explicitly canon at this point? Amirite? I'm right. @Marvel: get with the winning team.  
> (Also, I always see Bottom Steve and that's kind of predictable at this point, yah?)


End file.
